


Need A Hand?

by klaviergavout



Category: Starlight Express - Phillips/Stilgoe/Webber
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, You Have Been Warned, mentions of cb/greaseball and electra/greaseball too, very self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23451850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klaviergavout/pseuds/klaviergavout
Summary: Electra seeks CB out with a deal in mind, but CB's feelings get in the way.
Relationships: CB | Caboose/Electra (Starlight Express)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	Need A Hand?

"Need a hand?"

It's the first voice he's heard in hours. Opening his eyes and focusing his receptors  clumsily, CB takes in his surroundings. A clear night sky. Debris and metal everywhere. Freight trains speeding down tracks that lay only a few meters away from him.  Dust and scrap that's settled deep in his chassis chokes him, and he realises- with an unpleasant cough- that he hasn't moved an inch since the crash that day.

Memories flood back bit by bit- the tunnel, the sudden swerve, the screech of three pairs of brakes in unison- so it comes as quite a shock when he notices the red LEDs flitting about through the darkness, the gloved hand stretched out towards him.

"Electra? I thought you left," says CB, staring  blankly  at Electra's hand, not sure whether to trust or refuse it.

"I shouldn't have left how I did," replies the electric engine with his usual winning smile. "My components reminded me that this race is too unimportant to get upset about."

At this CB huffs, looking away. He's used to this.  Fake smiles and forced positivity are far too ingrained in him, for better or for worse, that it's impossible not to notice it in Electra.

"Forget your pride, Electra," he spits, gritting his teeth as he tries to stand up by himself to no avail, falling straight back down. "I know you're still upset."

"Oh, and you aren't?"  Electra's face transforms in an instant, his smile replaced by an ugly grimace- an expression that CB thinks suits his dented exterior much better. "Let me remind you that you're the only reason I'm here. I didn't come back for Greaseball."

"You  really  expect me to believe that?"

Electra scoffs, flexing and curling his fingers as he looks down at the affronted caboose.

"I suppose he and I did share some... tension."

CB doesn't know what to say- for once in his life, he can't think of a single retort or comeback, can't think of a way to diffuse the situation. He looks up  helplessly  at the towering engine, who smirks back and offers his hand out again; this time, the stubborn caboose takes it, unable to focus on anything else but the fierce shock of blue in Electra's eyes.  That shock turns menacing and  suddenly  Electra gives one great tug, pulling CB up in seconds and laughing at the yelp he gives when he skates headfirst into Electra's chest.

"I knew you weren't bluffing when you said you admired me."

Electra's voice has always been smooth, husky, one of a kind - but now it's tinged with fondness, which CB thinks is something very unusual for such a selfish locomotive. CB reddens the moment he hears it, trying second by second to ignore the feeling of Electra's hand in his.

"To tell you the truth, caboose, I didn't think you'd still feel the same way after everything that happened."

"I don't," snaps CB, shoving Electra's hand away and brushing himself off, but his lie comes out choked and pitiful. It only serves to make Electra grin with pride. "I  really  don't!"

"Even if you don't, I admire you, CB," replies Electra at last, "and I have a proposition for you."

Now this has CB interested- if not rather skeptical, too.  He's always the one making deals with other people, never the other way around - especially not with someone of Electra's calibre. "What is it?"

"I'm a very fast engine, CB. You're an  incredibly  smart caboose." Electra begins to skate up and down, pacing a short length of the track.  CB grabs tight onto the electric engine to keep himself steady as they glide; Electra is going much too fast for his bruised legs to keep up with on their own. "If it wasn't for Greaseball, we would have won that race."

CB shakes his head, a disparaging smile creeping onto his face. " I don't think  he can take _all_ the credit for that."

"Oh?" Electra raises an eyebrow, and CB shrinks down into himself, embarrassed.

"I told him I would wipe out Rusty and he took that to mean I was on his side."

"Well, he shouldn't have been so gullible then, should he?" smirks Electra, stopping the both of them short. "I had a feeling he'd be the first to know about your schemes."

"He usually is," CB adds.

"Do you want to change that?"

Once again CB doesn't know what to say; how could Electra  possibly  hope to change anything? It's always been the same old routine for him: Greaseball snaps his fingers and CB fixes the race for him like the obedient caboose he claims to be.  In return he gets his payment, plus a kiss or two for good measure - but that's something he's sworn to secrecy about, any hope of trainyard gossip dying on him and Greaseball's lips.  That said, he's less than likely to get that treatment again, considering how the diesel engine rushed off to grovel at Dinah's feet mere hours ago.

Thankfully  for CB's aching heart, Electra starts up again:

"Come with me, CB. Let's leave this place for good. They don't need the two of us any more, but we could work together. We could win."

When he realises the weight of Electra's proposition he goes a stark white.

"Oh, no, no, no," cries CB, throwing his hands out and pushing Electra away from him with a skittish laugh. "We  just  crashed each other. I've never been too good with partnerships. And besides, have you ever seen an electric engine with a caboose? There's none for a reason. You don't even need me."

Electra laughs again. It's a strange laugh; superficial and robotic. Even so CB can still sense the warmth behind it, a warmth that's only reserved for him.  It scares him, how willing Electra is to let down his guard for someone who  clearly  doesn't deserve it, who  clearly  doesn't deserve _him_. Self-hatred flares up in CB's chest.

Maybe  Electra senses that discomfort, because he lifts CB's chin up with a much more gentle expression. "No need to get nervous," he says with a frown. "What have you got to lose?"  Their faces are so close now and CB almost lets himself melt into those pools of neon blue, almost lets his own guard down until he realises Electra is pitying him.  And if there's one thing CB hates more than anything in this Starlight-forsaken world, it's  being pitied. Being weak.

"What have _I_ got to lose?" CB smacks Electra's hand away, incredulous. "Have you even considered what _you_ might lose if we run off into the sunset? Your reputation, for one. Any chance of entering another championship - gone! Not to mention your components, what would they think? I doubt they'd listen to me since I, oh, I don't know, _crashed_ you and broke your pretty face. In fact, I'm pretty sure Killerwatt wants to kill me. I don't blame him  really, I wouldn't want to be around someone who-- _mmph!_ "

CB's protests  are cut  short by Electra's lips crashing into his, gloved fingers cradling the back of his neck.  When Electra kisses him he tenses up at the jolt of electricity that surges through him, lets a quiet moan slip through and he feels the engine smile.  It's halfway between pleasure and pain- a sensation unlike any he's ever known before, but it's something else, alright.  Suddenly  the rise of electricity begins to make sense - even diesel can't compare to the raw, untainted _power_ he feels rushing through his veins.

Electra breaks the kiss and grins, back to his usual smug demeanour. "Who said anything about running off into the sunset?"

CB is breathless, hungry for more. "Me," he says with a gasping breath, digging his fingers into Electra's shoulders as he tugs him down to kiss him again.  Confidence makes him giddy and he laughs into the kiss, standing on tiptoe  just  so he can press himself against Electra with more force. It's the golden rule of magnetism; opposites attract.  Or at least, CB reckons they must do if an engine so amazing could ever want a selfish, good-for-nothing caboose, could ever dare to kiss him back.

CB's hands move down from Electra's shoulders, trailing  gently  across his broad back plates and the engine shudders at the touch.  He clutches onto the rings of Electra's couplers with sweaty palms, grasping even tighter with a scandalous whine when Electra pushes his tongue forward.  But before CB can  properly  enjoy the feeling, Electra breaks them apart with a smarmy smile and CB wants to kill him. "Just  to ask. Does this mean you'll come with me?"

Silence falls upon the empty tracks, saying a lot more than CB can manage.

Electra hums knowingly. "You'd miss him, wouldn't you."

"No," CB mumbles, not even attempting to sound convincing.  He wishes he could  be normal again - cool and collected, smiles all around - but Electra seems to have just kissed everything fake out of him, and as for Greaseball - well, he's _Greaseball_ _._ Everyone loves him and CB is no exception. He's seen the worst of that engine and he still can't help it.

"It's alright," says Electra, cupping CB's cheek with his hand and the caboose leans into his touch. "You've been here much longer than me, you deserve someone who'll stay."

"I don't deserve _anything._ Not Greaseball, not Dinah, not you." CB looks back up at Electra, eyes wide and full of stinging tears that he can't shed, not here. "Promise me you'll come back?"

Electra softens. "All the time! Besides," he adds, a mischievous smirk taking shape on his face, "I have a score to settle with that oiled-up wannabe."

"Okay," CB says, wondering if he should trust that claim but in the moment not bothering to care. He beams a wide smile when Electra leans down to kiss him once more, welcoming the taste of sparks on his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Will I ever stop thinking about these two? Probably never.


End file.
